


Like Another World

by ShadowLink720



Category: Octopath Traveler (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, nothing like some sappy moments in the middle of nowhere huh
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-31
Updated: 2019-02-21
Packaged: 2019-10-20 03:25:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17614517
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowLink720/pseuds/ShadowLink720
Summary: On their way through the Highlands, Olberic decides to briefly separate from the group and take Erhardt with him to somewhere he will not say.





	1. Chapter 1

“Wake up.”

Olberic keeps his voice low, careful not to wake the others. The only response the effort gets is a groan. Olberic lightly shakes Erhardt’s shoulder, and tells him again to wake up.

Finally, Erhardt somewhat stirs, albeit reluctant and irked. ‘Tis the usual response, though, so Olberic pays it little mind.

Erhardt opens his mouth either to protest or question. Olberic doesn’t know which, but he stops any words from being spoken (though it would sound more like a croak, at this point in time). “Follow me.” he says.

Just those two words and Olberic rises to his feet, bringing a still barely roused Erhardt with him.

“Gods, man, what’s with you?” Erhardt finally questions, in his gruff morning voice.

“I’ll tell you later, just come with me.” comes the response.

The two know each other well enough that Erhardt begins to follow without much further question, and Olberic is thankful for it.

Once a fair distance from the camp that they and the others made the night prior, Erhardt speaks up again - his voice still a little rough, “So did you tell the others you were going to go or are you just disappearing without a word again?”

Olberic occupies himself with moving the undergrowth and branches out of their way. “Aye, I mentioned it to H’aanit. It isn’t too long a trek.” he answers.

Olberic hardly believes such an answer was enough for Erhardt, but surprisingly they keep walking in silence.

That is, until Olberic stops walking, and has to gesture for Erhardt to do the same.

Olberic gestures again to Erhardt, this time to tell him to stay low and quiet. Olberic’s hand moves slowly to remove the bow from his back. This was why he had changed to the Hunter subclass for the occasion - there seemed to be a creature nearby.

Being mindful of his steps, Olberic leaves Erhardt’s side to continue within the undergrowth.

A Highland Goat.

Quietly, Olberic reaches into his quiver. Quietly, he nocks the arrow and draws to aim for the quarry.

The goat seemed quite content grazing where it is.

The arrow is loosed, and it hits a mark. Not quite the intended mark, as it seems to have hit the goat’s flank.

It darts away, far quicker than Olberic is able to nock and aim another arrow. From behind him, Erhardt laughs.

A quick glance, and then Olberic begins to follow where the goat ran off to, gesturing for Erhardt to follow.

It had been early morning when they departed the camp, but by the time they successfully tracked the goat it was well into the afternoon.

Olberic readies another arrow, trying to improve his aim from his last attempt. They are closer to the goat, so it should be easier in theory.

He fires. This one hits the goat’s side.

It begins to run again, but something flies past Olberic’s head and firmly into the goat’s neck. The quarry falls to the ground, still not quite dead. Olberic moves closer to quickly finish the job. The projectile had been a dagger. 

From behind him, Erhardt emerges from sight, a smile on his face. “Couldn’t let you get all the credit, could I?” he laughs.

Olberic decides to act annoyed for a bit, claiming Erhardt stole his quarry. Erhardt laughs again.

Olberic doesn’t mind in reality, however. Not in the least. “Well,” he glances over to Erhardt, smiling with equal parts feigned innocence and mischief, “since you were so keen on helping me kill it, I suppose you won’t object to helping me skin it, too.”

Erhardt’s face drops almost comically. “Ya sneaky bastard.” he mutters. “Did you seriously drag me all the way out here just for some hunting?”

Olberic shakes his head. “Not explicitly. But we will be away from the group for a while. Our destination is still at least a days march, after all.”

Erhardt removes his dagger from the goat and sheaths it, eyes mostly fixed on Olberic. “Well, it better be worth it.” He says.

“Trust me.”

Erhardt doesn’t need to respond - his eyes are answer enough that he does indeed trust Olberic.

The two spend a good length of time setting up their camp and preparing the goat for skinning. By the time the deed is done, the evening fast approaches.

“If I’m not mistaken, this should be more than enough to last us the journey.” Olberic states, staring mindlessly into the fire as it’s tongues lap at the goat meat.

Erhardt leans back on his hands and looks to the canopy above them, his hair falling back gently. “Well, you’d have a better judgment than I, seeing how you actually ken where we’re going.” He pauses to lower his head again. “I meant to ask, by the way - what of the others?”

Olberic decides to feed the flames with more kindling. “I told H’aanit we’d meet them in Stonegard, likely a day or so after they arrive.”

Erhardt nods once in acknowledgment. “I like how you said ‘we’ like I had agreed to it beforehand.” He chuckles.

Olberic glances over, and speaks with a playful tone. “I like how you implied you wouldn’t.”

That gets him a punch in the shoulder.

Quiet moments like these, spent with people close to him… Olberic never realised how much they were missed until he began travelling. Perhaps that is why he likes the group so much - because they feel similar to his days as a knight of Hornburg.

But there is little point in trying to pinpoint the exact reasons why. The only thing that really matters is that it’s true.

Time seems to move quickly, and before long the sun dips below the horizon. As it does, the cold grows stronger.

Sometimes, on the colder Hornburgian nights, Erhardt would stay in close contact with Olberic. It seems tonight would be one of those nights, as Erhardt makes no effort to hide that he lies close to Olberic on purpose.

“Sorry, you don’t mind, do you?” Erhardt whispers the question, reluctant to break the quiet of the night.

Olberic isn’t particularly keen on physical contact. Most of the time it just makes him uncomfortable. It seems to depend on the person, however, as Erhardt is an exception. Olberic shifts to face him, closing the distance. “I don’t mind at all.” is his response.

Erhardt buries his head into Olberic’s shoulder, and laughs to himself. “Gods, you’re hopeless, aren’t you?”

“Don’t think you’re any better.”

Erhardt doesn’t try to make any comeback, and Olberic takes it as a hint to stay quiet.

* * *

Olberic’s dreams usually involve the fall of Hornburg and Erhardt’s betrayal. Their frequency has lessened only slightly after the two began trying to rebuild what was lost. Despite the progress that has been made, Olberic still often wakes within the night with the events still clear in his mind. Sometimes they differ, however. Sometimes there are nightmares that have Erhardt stand by his actions and not regret them at all. Sometimes Olberic is the one to slay the king. Sometimes Olberic would fell Erhardt in the Lizardman’s Den. Sometimes, the opposite outcome would occur.

But… oddly - and thankfully - Olberic experiences none of those scenarios this night.

Instead, he’s somewhere he has never been.

He finds himself in some mountain passage, with snow everywhere he turns. It feels nothing like the Frostlands, however.

He hears footsteps approach him… but he wakes up before he can even glimpse who - or what - it is.


	2. Chapter 2

The sun has not risen yet, but there are hints of a fog forming. Olberic decides to wait a while, at least until Erhardt begins to stir.

To his chagrin, the details of his dream have already begun to fade. Within such a short time, the only thing he remembers of it is that there was snow.

Eventually, Olberic decides to sit up. There’s an irritated grunt from Erhardt, displeased with being woken so suddenly. Erhardt reaches a hand up to tug at Olberic’s arm, asking him to lie down again.

When Olberic doesn’t comply, Erhardt lifts his head to glare. It doesn’t have much impact, given his bleary eyes.

“Bastard.” Is the only thing that stumbles from his mouth, and he lowers his head again.

“Good morning to you, too.” Olberic mutters, trying to hide a smile.

Erhardt makes an exasperated noise in lament of his decreasing chances of more sleep, before falling completely still for a few seconds too long.

Suddenly, he pushes himself up, though he still looks irritated that he has to be awake.

They clear their camp (or rather, Olberic does most of it) and continue on their way.

As they walk in relative silence, Olberic finds himself still trying to recall details of his dream.  Alas, his efforts are in vain, and even the image of the snow has been fading.

Behind him, Erhardt mutters. “Sounds like there’s a burn nearby, doesn’t it?”

Olberic realises that Erhardt is right. It seems to be rather close too. The sound of the undergrowth and being focused mostly on his thoughts must have drowned out the noise.

Erhardt hums, his eyes narrowed and brow furrowed as a question seems to plague his mind.

Rather suddenly, Olberic realises what that question is. He sighs, and begins heading towards the source. Erhardt follows close behind.

The burn is shallow, and fast moving - typical of rivers at this altitude. Erhardt wastes no time removing his gloves to cup his hands in the water. Olberic decides to keep a look out for monsters and the like while Erhardt washes himself. A notion he knows Erhardt would return in kind.

“You know, I had the most bizarre dream.” Erhardt speaks up. The cold water must have helped wake him up, judging by his voice.

“How so?” Olberic asks, keeping his gaze on their surroundings.

Erhardt goes quiet. “... Shit, I cannae mind it now. There was… ahh, some kind of village, I think? I just ken it felt… empty, and that I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“Bizarre indeed.”

Olberic decides to stay quiet about his dream. He doesn’t feel like he remembers enough for it to warrant any mention.

The two go quiet again, at least until Erhardt informs him that they can swap roles.

Olberic is finished washing himself considerably faster than Erhardt had, likely from the fact there was little conversation to distract. Erhardt rolls his eyes and laughs, telling Olberic that he should take his time every once in a while. Olberic somewhat acknowledges it, and they continue on their way.

* * *

The land seems to become increasingly familiar as they go on. They’re close.

“Still don’t know where we’re heading?” Olberic asks, glancing back for a moment.

Erhardt sighs as he stops to look at his surroundings with more attention. After a moment, he answers that he does not.

How odd, Olberic thinks. But understandable, as Erhardt didn’t come here nearly as often as Olberic had in the past.

“Well, perhaps this will help jog your memory.” He says, nodding to the sight now before them.

Erhardt quickly makes his way next to Olberic to see it.

The valley floor stretches out before them. Surrounded by dense undergrowth and a high canopy, the clearing feels isolated. An isolation that gives Olberic a sense of peace, rather than loneliness, however. A river cuts through the earth, granting the area a perpetual white noise of running water. The entire scene feels like a second home to Olberic.

He looks to Erhardt, who simply stares wide eyed.

“... Aye, this does help.” He says quietly. “This is… This is where you used to disappear off to, wasn’t it?”

Olberic nods.

Erhardt maintains his expression of awe, as he seems to remember more. “This is also where…” The corners of his mouth curl into an ever so slight smile. “You’ve taken me here before, and this is where I… Gods, this is where I told you I’m...” His face twists into one of confusion. “I remember that I had told you about my body, but for the longest time I... never even thought to try to remember  **where** it was that I told you. How could I forget this place?” He asks.

Olberic decides to keep his gaze in front of him. “I had forgotten about it as well. ‘Twas only the other day when I began to recognise the area.” He confesses.

Erhardt exhales, rather surprised at the revelation. “If you, of all people, completely forgot about this place then something is definitely up, huh?” He says, mostly in a joking tone.

After Olberic doesn’t really respond, Erhardt shakes his head and takes the other’s arm. “Well, there’s no use dwelling on it, is there? Come on, you were the one who dragged me here.”

They make their way down to the river. While the notion that he had completely forgotten about a place so important to him still clung to his mind and refused to leave, Olberic did his best to take a moment to slow down and focus on the present. Erhardt’s company certainly helped to keep his thoughts wandering too far.

They spend their time reminiscing of their days as knights, particularly those of the many antics that involved themselves and the other knights of the barracks. The memories are bittersweet, of course, but that does little to stop them.

Erhardt leans on Olberic’s shoulder, and generally seems a little more physically affectionate than usual (something Olberic decides to reciprocate).

Occasionally, they tell one another that they’re getting too sappy, which the other decides to ignore.

* * *

“Gods, when did it get so late?” Erhardt sits up, looking to the darkening sky.

Olberic isn’t sure how the time seemed to pass so quickly.

Erhardt speaks again. “We should look for somewhere to make camp for the night.”

The two decide to make their way upstream, looking for any spot good enough to camp for the night.

Until, that is, they come across something strange.

What lies before them are ruins. They seem far older than even those of the shrines of the thirteen gods.

It seems… oddly familiar, fascinating even, but... something seems off. “I… don’t remember these ruins at all.” He says.

Erhardt takes a few steps closer, observing the worn, mossy stone where presumably walls once stood. “I don’t remember them either.” He mutters.

The ruins stretch far. It must have been an important structure while intact.

Erhardt stands up, and laughs a little. “Maybe it’s a good thing Cyrus isn’t with us. He wouldn’t be able to shut up if he saw this, would he?”

Olberic can do nothing but nod in response. He finds himself unable to form words simply looking out onto the landscape steeped in… silence.

… Yes, that’s what it is. Despite the fast flowing river, Erhardt’s presence, and the general ambiance of the Highland forest... there is an undisturbed quiet.

Erhardt looks to Olberic, his eyes bear a hint of concern. “Do you want to look in the other direction? Or do we think here is a good enough spot to make camp?”

Olberic shakes his head. “Here is fine.” is about all he can say.

They set up a fire outside the ruins as the night returns, keeping the same distance (or lack thereof) as they had the previous night.

Questions refuse to let Olberic sleep, at least not for a long time. Mostly questions about why he has no memory of this place. After all, how can he have come here so many times and never noticed something so significant? Something with such a presence like this place has?

Thankfully, however, he is eventually granted rest.

 

Olberic finds himself in a building of stone. He doesn’t recognise the long, empty corridors. Nor does he recognise the arched windows with glass tinted in various yellows.

He does, however, somewhat recognise the landscape beyond it. A mountain passage covered in snow.

Another dream, perhaps?

The very walls change from time to time. Some moments the walls are smooth and untouched, other times they are adorned with strange cylinders running along them. Along with the appearance, the atmosphere also alternates. Sometimes the building feels completely empty and devoid of life, but sometimes it feels disquieting, it feels almost like a battlefield would.

This must be another dream.

Olberic eventually wanders into a long hallway with arches on each side. When faced with the realisation that there are figures on the other end, he dares not walk any further. How many are there? Are there but a handful? An army’s worth? He can’t make it out.

They are talking, or rather - one of them is shouting, the tone seemed filled with hatred. He can’t understand the words, though whether that is because it is in another tongue, or the words are simply too muffled to decipher, is unclear.

The shouting stops abruptly, and most of the figures seem to disappear, leaving only a few.

A bright flash erupts from the far end of the hall but moments later. Olberic tries to shield his eyes, but the light is so strong, so blinding.

It burns.

 

“Olberic.” He awakens abruptly by the sound of Erhardt’s voice, above him.

The sun is already up.

Erhardt’s expression softens, and he moves away so that Olberic can sit up.

“You were still asleep when I woke up. I found it odd, but… for a while I just left you.” Erhardt explains. “But… then you kept sleeping. Far longer than you would usually. I even tried shaking you awake, but you didn’t respond.”

Erhardt breaks his explanation by handing Olberic a flask of water. “You were starting to scare me, you know. Don’t do that again.”

Olberic can’t help but find himself glancing towards the ruins, taking a sip from the goatskin flask. “I’m sorry, I…” The images are still quite clear in his mind. Perhaps he can describe it.

Erhardt listens intently to the explanation, brief as it was. He nods a little.

“I dreamed of that village again, myself.” He says, after a little while. Though… this time it was wrought with some kind of disease. I… dinnae mind anything about it besides that.”

Olberic hums in acknowledgment, before rising to his feet. He begins to clear away the remnants of the camp. Erhardt joins him.

* * *

Olberic and Erhardt are about to set off for Stonegard, when they are stopped by a voice.

“Didn’t think I’d find anyone else here.” It says.

The voice belongs to a figure clad in green, and their face is obscured mostly by their hat.

“... Aye, neither did we.” Erhardt responds, somewhat wary. “And who might you be?” Olberic notices that Erhardt’s hand rests on the hilt of his sword.

The figure laughs under their breath, and shakes their head. “You needn’t worry. I bear no ill intentions.” It seems they have noticed Erhardt’s wariness as well. “I am but a traveller, like yourselves.”

Erhardt’s hand loosens, but it remains close to the hilt.

The traveller continues, “I heard tales of these ruins, and wished to see them for myself. That is all.”

“Are you willing to share these tales?” Olberic asks.

“Hmm. ‘Twould take a long time to explain it all, I’m afraid. And by the looks of it, you two weren’t going to stick around much longer.” Their bright eyes sparkle with a smile. “But… ah, how to describe it? Mm… Well, let’s just say that here once stood a grand tower. It was a powerful symbol, and deeply important to those who once lived in these lands.”

They take a moment to gauge if either Olberic or Erhardt are remotely interested, and once they find that to be the case, they elaborate a little. “This tower once housed a structure that was the focus of the people’s prayers. Not unlike the shrines of the thirteen gods throughout Orsterra.”

Erhardt’s brow furrows. “People prayed to something other than a deity?”

The traveller shrugs. “Supposedly. I know not for certain. Though, I do believe this must have been quite some time before the Fallen was banished beyond the world’s edge.”

The traveller stops, to focus on a newcomer. A fox trots up to the traveller, giving them a glance that the mysterious traveller seems to understand. “Ah, my apologies.” They say. “I’m afraid my companion and I must be on our way as well.”

Olberic is about to speak, but the traveller seems to interpret his expression. “Who can say if our paths will ever cross again. But that uncertainty is one of the wonders of being a traveller, no? It makes even the most brief of encounters feel that much more important.”

The fox begins to walk away, and the traveller follows. For a moment, they look back at the warriors, and smile. “However, I shall hold onto the hope that we do meet again... in another time, and another place. Until such a day should come, with the words of an old friend of mine;  _ bon courage _ .”

And with that, the traveller and their fox companion disappear into the undergrowth of the forest.

Erhardt and Olberic find themselves simply trying to process the spontaneous nature of the encounter.

“... Before the thirteenth god was banished…? But that…” Erhardt begins muttering to himself, trying to make sense of it.

Olberic places a hand on his shoulder. “I believe it would behoove us to ask Cyrus about it, would it not?”

Erhardt sighs, before agreeing.

 

But as the sound of the river fades, so too do the details of the ruins and the traveller alike.

**Author's Note:**

> ayy this.. would have been one whole thing but I was worried it might have gotten a bit too long or something so I decided to break it up a bit.


End file.
